


The Adventures of a Sociopath and his Power-Hungry Father

by IntoTheUnknown



Series: Sherlock's Father and the Wonderful Adventures They Have [1]
Category: Avengers, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: First work posted on AO3, Originally posted on Fanfic.net, The pac man guy is actually relevant, i'm really proud of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheUnknown/pseuds/IntoTheUnknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock was 6 years old the first time he met his father. It was midnight and a strange man had waved him down to the garden. And what do you know this man turned out to be Loki, the God of Mischief himself. Now 22 years later Sherlock needs his father's help unfortunately Loki is imprisoned in SHIELD. Will Galaga be involved? Will Sherlock be so annoying he gets himself arrested?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Story

Thor had never considered that the reason Loki was so against his love for Jane Foster was not out of bitterness but because he did truly care for his brother and did not want to see him go through what he did twenty-eight years ago on Midgard, the birth of his first and only son and the death of his lover who had never recovered from childbirth. Loki at first had only felt resentment towards the child that had stolen his beautiful Maria so he had gifted the half mortal to a near by family with one other son and hearts almost as big as their house.

It was curious that in all twenty-eight years of Sherlock Holmes’s life no one ‘close’ to him had ever found out that he was adopted. It should have been obvious, both his parents had been gingers before their hair greyed and his brother followed suit while he had ravens-wing black curls. Sherlock’s IQ was higher than his whole families put together, even though Mycroft had always, and most likely will always protest that statement. Although considering his true parentage it was probably better no one asked.

Sherlock was six years old when he first learned who his father was. He had deduced a year previous that he was not in fact the son of Mr and Mrs. Holmes and had spent many months after that trying to find his biological parents, soon he was satisfied that it there was no record of them in any official document or database a sociopathic five year old could get their hands on, which was not a pleasing thing in Sherlock’s mind, he wanted to know. Who were his parents? Were they boring or were they fascinatingly clever like him? Why did they give him up? It was this thirst for knowledge that first drew Loki to him.

After a few months of wallowing in self-pity and bitterness, the ‘God’ of Mischief started to get curious about his boy. Soon Loki had taken to asking Heimdall to turn his all-seeing gaze towards Midgard to locate his son, every single night. For five years. And every night Heimdall would tell him, in a rather bored voice, all about his offsprings new accomplishments, such as, ‘he’s getting more and more mischievous by the day old friend.’ or ‘he’s only four years old and doing advanced experiments in the mortal field of science.’ or sometimes, ‘he has your complexion but his eyes are as blue as his mother’s.’ Finally the last bit of resentment the Asgardian had held disappeared and turned into a burning curiosity towards his son. Soon Loki had made a decision, he would visit his son, just in time for his sixth birthday.

Just as the clock turned midnight there was a bright flash of light and a large thump in the Holmes garden, and there was Loki wearing his usual Midgard attire, a sharp suit, a green scarf, and his cane, golden with a blue bit on top. Little Sherlock, who had just gotten into bed after reading a particularly interesting study about the different pigments in a flamingo’s feathers, (and several books about pirates) ran to his window and gaped at the man who had just appeared, his mind racing a million miles an hour trying to deduce who he was and where he came from. Loki looked up at the second story window of the house and smiled at the boy who was peering out. Heimdall was right, he had Loki’s raven locks, and his pale face but he had his mother’s shining blue eyes. Emerald eyes glinting mischievously (but then again they always did that) he waved the boy down and probably against all better judgement Sherlock did as he was told.

Throwing on a thick winter’s coat the six year old ran outside, intrigued by the strange man in the lawn. The man smiled at him and crouched as if he were a father waiting for his small child to run into his arms.

“Hullo.” The man offered a bit awkwardly, running a hand through his hair, which looked like it should have been impossible given all the product that seemed to be in it.

“Hello.” Sherlock said shyly already starting to deduce the man.

 _‘Troublemaker.’_ His face screamed it, that mischievous twinkle in his eye, that small smirk that he didn’t even seem to know he was making. _‘Has family issues too, probably a younger sibling overshadowed by the elder. Adopted possibly? Yes, adopted and he hasn’t found out about it yet, but he still feels detached from his family, just like me.’_

‘ _Well dressed, probably wealthy too given the material, now why would he be wearing that at midnight? Perhaps walked here from a party of sorts? No. it rained a few hours ago, there would be mud on his shoes.’ Sherlock looked down at the man’s shoes, not one speck of mud. ‘Took a cab then, not likely if he was a few houses away he would’ve just walked or driven himself, but if he were farther away than that why bother coming all the way out here to see me?’_ He didn’t have all the variables, he needed to know more about this man. But then again Sherlock could see the resemblance between himself and this man. ‘ _Could it be….? No that’s illogical, why would my father come and visit me after all these years, at midnight, without explanation.’_ He told himself firmly.

"Hmm I thought this'd be simpler. Although leading you out was pretty easy. Don't Midgardian parents warn their offspring not to speak to strangers?" Loki mused, it had been silly of him to think he could just waltz up and tell the small boy he was his father without feeling any sort of anticipation, anxiety, or any of the other emotions that were currently using his stomach as a ball room.

Sherlock cocked his head at the word 'Midgardian' it was obviously derived from the word Midgard a supposed realm his 'mother' had mentioned when she had been reading a book of Norse fairy tales to him. Curious he decided to press the matter.

"Midgardian? Do you like those myths too?" Sherlock suddenly got excited, it wasn’t everyday he met someone with the same interests as him. "I love them. Who's your favorite character? Mine's Loki, he's clever, clever enough to trick his brother, I like to think I’m just like him, my brother’s, well my adopted one, a boring idiot, emphasis on boring.” He babbled on, folktales were the one thing besides science, mysteries, and pirates (of course) he got excited about. Most likely because Mycroft didn’t approve of them and of course little brothers always had to do what their elder brothers disapproved of, even adopted ones.

Loki raised an eyebrow, smirking to himself but also wondering how to explain how those ‘myths’ were more or less fact. And then pondering the boys speech, by the Asgardians calculations this was the boy’s sixth autumn upon Midgard yet he was speaking like an adult, and a very well educated adult at that. Loki was impressed, this certainly was his son.

“Yes, I believe Loki has to be my favorite too.” He smiled.

Sherlock nodded, narrowing his eyes ‘W _hy is this man smiling at me? He’s smiling, in a loving sort of way suggesting he’s talking to someone he cares about, ugh. Sentiment. I’ll never understand it.’_ Fed up with trying to deduce this man the blue eyed boy crossed his arms;

“Why are you here?” He asked taking to glaring at Loki, he didn’t like people he couldn’t figure out. “Are you lost? No, possible but unlikely. Given the way you waved me a” Sherlock checked the wrist watch he had on. “six year old down, that’s not it, I mean there’s no way you could have known how extremely clever I am and how I can give you directions to anywhere in Great Britain from here just by looking, so that’s not it. You could be a kidnapper but that’s improbable too, if you were you would have broken in not waved me down, you also would wear less conspicuous clothing, like maybe a gardener's uniform, since we have one of those and sometimes he works late. The fact that you waved specifically me down and that your smile suggests you have a sentimental attachment to me but I have never seen you before in my life, I never forget a face, unless it’s a boring one.” Sherlock finished his ramble and crossed his arms with an annoyed huff that sounded quite adorable coming from a six year old.

Loki straightened from his crouching position which had become quite uncomfortable after some time and started to laugh a cheerful yet still cold laugh which made Sherlock pout even more. Suddenly the Asgardian grew very solemn, his green eyes lost their twinkle and his raven brows knitted together ‘How in the name of Odin that I am going to explain this?’

Taking a deep breath the ‘god’ decided to just blurt it out, simple, straight forward, because that always works right?

“I’m-your-father.” He said extremely quickly making sure to use simple Midgardian wording as opposed to ‘I believe I am your sire’ or ‘I sired you.’ which would’ve probably been the correct word choice on Asgard.

As expected Sherlock took a few steps back his hands shaking. The boy’s mind raced, he’s not lying, there would be changes the pitch of his voice, so he must be telling the truth. This shouldn’t have been a shock to Sherlock, he himself had noted the similarities between them, so why was his heart racing? Why was the world suddenly spinning faster than it should’ve been? Why was there this hot bubble of anger in his chest? Why on earth did he feel like hitting something, screaming, throwing a fit?

Loki watched as emotions scrolled across the little boys face. Doubt, surprise, sadness, anger, rage. Finally the boys hands curled into fists at his side and every curl on his head started shaking.  
“You’re my what?” He asked in a soft dangerous tone, obviously trying (and failing) to keep himself calm.

Loki took a few involuntary steps back. “You’re f-father?” He tried weakly, attempting to fall back into his usual I-don’t-care-about-anything tone (and failing miserably as portrayed by his stutter.)

The boy’s blue eyes glinted furiously looking the man over for any sign that he was lying, he didn't find any. “My father? My actual biological father! And you think it’s alright to come waltzing in at midnight to tell me this? I mean I know I don’t pick up on social etiquette very well but even I, a high functioning, six year old, sociopath know that’s not an acceptable thing to do!” His voice seemed to double by the end of the rant and both people were shocked to see a flickering duplicate standing next to Sherlock with the same angry expression on it’s face.

Loki looked between the boy and the duplicate in shock and then smirked.

“I see you’ve inherited my talents.” He noted cooly, thanking the Allfather that he hadn’t stuttered.

Sherlock for the first time in his life was speechless. Soon the duplicate faded which left the sociopath gaping at an empty space.

“How...um...er?” Was all the boy could say as he tried to spit out a complete sentence.

Loki finally managed to settle into his comfortable sly smile and leaned against his cane doing what Sherlock thought to be a good impression of Mycroft whenever he was bored and had an umbrella on his person which seemed to be always.

Sherlock awkwardly cleared his throat and tried to act as if he hadn’t seen the clone but he was shaken. “Your talents?” He questioned.

Loki nodded, his emerald eyes sparkling. “Yes that’s correct, my talents.” He closed his eyes for half a second and next to him another Loki appeared. It gave a perfect imitation of the Asgardians imitation of the Cheshire Cat smile and then flickered out of existence. “See?”

The boy looked the man in front of him up and down taking in his immaculate suit, green scarf, slicked back raven hair and pale complexion trying to deduce anything he may of missed and coming up empty, he would just have to ask.

“Who are you?”

Loki took a deep breath preparing for the look of disbelief and ‘oh-my-god-you’re-insane’ that would cross his son’s face once he told him the truth. “I am Loki, of Asgard." Well at least half the truth. Loki straightened trying his best to look god-like.

Sherlock took a few involuntary steps back. Blue eyes stared warily at supposed God of Mischief. Again Sherlock searched for any indication of falsehood. He found a little but not enough to discredit the man's whole story, he had deduced that he was adopted before so that was probably all, he was 'lying' about his home, although he may not of known it yet. Deciding that all indicators showed this man was telling the truth and reminding himself of his ‘motto’ of sorts (once you rule out the impossible, whatever remains, however illogical, must be the truth),Sherlock answered back weakly;

"Sherlock Holmes. " and offered his hand. After a moment of consideration he added "Hello, father."

Loki smiled, a true genuine smile which had not graced his lips for what seemed like half a century, and maybe it was. A warm feeling came with the boy’s simple greeting and the smile stretched into a grin.

“Sher-lock.” He said, trying the name out. “Fitting, it suits you nicely.”

Sherlock inclined his head and smiled back at his newfound father. ‘What is this warm feeling in my chest?’ He wondered, comparing it to other sensations he had felt in the past. ‘Is this...sentiment?’

There was one more thing that was bothering the young sociopath, well, okay, a million things but this one was more pressing. Running a hand through his ebony curls he cautiously asked;

“You said you have magic, you showed me an illusion, but magic isn’t possible is it?”

Loki smirked, his eyes twinkling. “It is not possible on this realm, but on many others it is. Mortals are just too weak-minded to use it.”  
Sherlock nodded, still puzzled but accepting this answer. “I always knew this planet was full of idiots.”

Loki laughed, “And you, my son, will never be one of them.”

The six year old nodded enthusiastically. “Good, that would be so boring.”

“Do you have some place we can sit? I think we have much to talk about.”

Sherlock nodded. He hadn’t been tired anyway.

** 22 years later…. **

 

Sherlock sat at his cluttered desk in the living room of the flat he shared with his best (and only) friend John Watson staring intently at his (John’s) laptop screen, blue eyes scanning from left to right and occasionally stopping to scribble something on scraps of paper he had next to him.

“Sherlock...are you playing Galaga?” His blonde-haired flatmate walked behind him clutching a cup of highly caffeinated coffee like a lifeline, which he supposed it could be after being up all night trying to solve a kidnapping case that could be related to the threat issued by the well-known psychopath Jim Moriarty.

“Hmm?..Oh yes.” Sherlock didn’t take his eyes off the screen as he spoke, mouthing words to himself as he stared intently at the laptop.

In truth Sherlock was not playing Galaga, he was decrypting a code that had been left for him by a mole he had placed inside the highly ‘secret’ American agency known as SHIELD, playing Galaga was a nice cover, it was an enjoyable, rather addictive game, and if caught the mole would simply be told off and the matter would be dismissed, he could go right back to playing as soon as his superiors backs were turned.

“Right..well do you mind turning the volume down a bit?” John asked tugging his ear and looking at his sociopathic friend skeptically, Sherlock had just been threatened by an insane man who had vowed to kill him and here he was playing a retro game like he didn’t have a care in the world.

The detective didn’t reply and if anything turned the volume up. The encryption his mole was sending was hidden in the tinny music, using the pitch frequencies, but the abnormalities in said music were so slight a normal person wouldn’t have noticed anything was wrong.

“Sherlock! Did you hear me?” John moved closer to glare at his friend and noticed what he was scribbling.

_Yes, they just brought him in._

_Are you sure? He’s a raging lunatic right now._

_Yes, I can patch you in._

_Doing it now stand by._

_Okay, you’re in you’ll be able to hear everything, here you go:_

There were a few numbers hastily written at the bottom that John couldn’t make out.

Just as he was about to question Sherlock, the dark haired sociopath held out a hand, palm up a silent order that John knew quite well ‘Phone. now’ or if he was in a slightly nicer move he would wiggle his fingers which the blonde man took to mean ‘John I know I’m an insufferable ass, but would you mind bringing me my phone since I’m too lazy to move three inches to get it? Thank you, what would I do without you John?’ Although that may just have been his imagination.

With a huff of annoyance John passed the consulting detective the black device and Sherlock immediately began tapping at it, shaking his head slightly and mouthing words to himself as he typed. That was odd, Sherlock never did that. He was bouncing his leg nervously as he placed the phone on the table and kept his eyes locked on the screen.

High above the seas on an airship a strange group of people were gathered at a table discussing in quiet voices the motives of a certain God of Mischief they had just put in custody.

“So he’s building another portal.” Bruce Banner a man with slightly greying brown hair and an expression of a man deep in thought clarified. “That’s what he needs Selvig for..”

“Selvig?” Thor, Loki’s brother with shoulder length blonde hair wearing clothes that looked to be straight out of a gladiator movie asked.

“He’s an astrophysicist.” Banner explained.

“He’s a friend.” Thor said sadly, remembering his time on Earth.

Sherlock listened to all of this from his living room, his hands clasped near his face, looking somewhat like he was in prayer.  
“Sherlock what the hell is all this!?” John asked pointing to the screen of the laptop which still had the Galaga program running but the annoying music had switched to a conference which seemed like it was very important.

Sherlock simply held out a finger, asking for silence. With a seething huff John obeyed but continued to glare at his flatmate.

“We should be worried about catching Moriarty you know!” He hissed, but Sherlock hadn’t been listening, he was focused solely on the conversation on the SHIELD plane.

Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America had begun speaking;

“I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He’s not leading an army from here.”

Suddenly Sherlock grabbed his phone, made a few quick revisions to the message he had been typing and sent it now leaning forward practically pressing his nose to the laptop’s screen.

Bruce Banner was about to suggest they focus on something other than the Asgardians motives when there was the sound of all four of their cell phones going off, Thor looked around confused, was this a mortal custom of some sort? Possibly a, now what did they call it, flash mob? Whatever it was Thor didn’t think it appropriate given the situation at hand.

_Because he’s bored and you’re offering him entertainment, besides it’s a clever plan if you consider it - SH_

Everyone stared at their phone screens in disbelief, Tony Stark for once in his life, speechless, Bruce Banner only made small squeaking sounds as if he had forgotten how to speak and Natasha kept blinking as if it was just a hallucination that would disappear at anytime.

“Umm security breach?” Rogers suggested timidly after he had figured out how to unlock his cellphone and get to the source of the noise.

Everyone nodded and looked around as if the culprit might be in the same room.

_Oh pipe down I’m not actually on the ship! How stupid are you? No wonder Loki has the upper hand, I’m almost rooting for him at this point. Well I am rooting for him and unless you do something incredibly clever to change my mind which I doubt…..-SH_

The message sounded again and they all raced to check it.

“Hold up, how do you know about Loki?” Banner asked looking at the ceiling as if there was actually some mysterious entity that was communicating with them.

Sherlock grinned at the computer screen, oh what fun this was going to be, his father would be very proud of him, toying with the ‘mortals’ as he would put it. They’d have no choice but to bring him in and even if they didn’t put him anywhere close to Loki, which he doubted they would, they weren’t that thick, or at least he hoped they weren’t, they were Americans so one couldn’t be to sure, but anyway even if they didn’t put him close to Loki he could use what little ‘magical’ (he still wasn’t completely convinced they couldn’t be explained by science) abilities would allow him to pass through the various doors between him and his father as if they were nothing but water, a neat little trick to have and would be very handy too if the little humans around him wouldn’t lock him up for it. Grinning madly he began typing, making John worry for his friend’s sanity in the process

_Oh me and him go way back. -SH_

The people on the airship considered this response

“Thor do you know anyone on Asgard with the initials SH?” Rogers asked looking up from his phone.

Thor shook his head slowly. “No one that would be this cryptic, if I had to guess I’d say this was one of my brother’s schemes but he’s in your dungeon’s with no access to, what did you call them, moebill?”

“Mobile, big guy, mobile.” Stark corrected “And maybe you’re right, maybe this is Loki toying with us…” The billionaire shrugged his mind racing, calculating different possibilities.

Back in his flat Sherlock scoffed.

_I am not Loki. -SH_

“Prove it.” everyone said simultaneously.

_Ok then, I can tell by your voices there are five people sitting in the far back of the room, judging by the echoes on a raised platform, four men and a woman, the woman is Russian and sitting on farthest away from the main doors but closest to a side exit suggesting she is used to having to get out quickly and not be seen. There are two men there that don’t speak like the others, one’s an American, judging by his use of ma’am and how he was so happy when he ‘understood that reference’ about the flying monkeys he’s either not had any social connections for his entire life or he is from a different period in time, considering you are working at SHIELD I assume the latter. As for the other one; he has a British and or Australian accent, (hard to tell with this sound system) but he speaks like Loki, he also calls him ‘brother’ so I’m assuming this is Thor the ‘God of Thunder’ I doubt Loki knew all of that and if he did I’m very impressed. But if that’s not enough, trace the cellphone number. In fact here, let me make it easier for you. 221B Baker st. Sherlock Holmes, come pick me up. -SH_

The Avengers stared wordlessly at the message on their phone screens. he had gotten everything right, even things Loki wouldn’t have known such as the reference Rogers had understood, and where Natasha had been sitting, it was true she unconsciously chose the spot closest to a side exit.

“J-JARVIS?” Stark said into a small earpiece. “Run a search for Sherlock Holmes.”

JARVIS’S cool metallic voice told Tony he was running it now, images of a tall, raven haired man, with high cheek bones and cool blue-grey eyes filled the monitors on the platform.

“Sherlock Holmes.” JARVIS began speaking over the ship’s loudspeaker (no one really wanted to know how he had done that.) “A consulting detective for the Scotland Yard, he has an IQ of, well for the sake of your pride Mr. Stark I won’t say his IQ, resides in 221B Baker Street with his flatmate Doctor John Watson. Records say he’s adopted but no sign of the agency or his biological parents.”

Nick Fury who had just entered the main control room was briefed on the situation and ordered a small carrier plane to pick the detective up, ignoring the fact that this man could be an enemy and had specifically asked to be picked up.

“Sher- where are you going?” John asked staring at the computer screen. “Did they just? Are they?”

“Yes John, they’re coming to arrest me, do try to keep up.” Sherlock glanced behind him at his flat mate while shrugging on his coat and tying his scarf around his neck before stepping outside.

“Sherlock are you going to put on shoes?” John called watching as his flatmates socks disappeared from view.

“Ah. Shoes, shoes are boring.” The consulting detective muttered and watched the sky as a sleek black plane suddenly appeared.

The plane hovered over the street and a collapsible ladder was sent down which Sherlock held on to and was pulled up into the metal contraption. Straightening his scarf he looked around and was about to reach out and run his fingers along an odd looking panel when he suddenly found a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

"Please don't touch that." An American accent sounded behind him.

Sherlock turned and found himself face to face with a smaller, brunette man in a crisp black suit. The man regarded him with his head held high suggesting that, despite the height difference he considered himself above the detective.

Sherlock nodded curtly and resisted the urge to make a very Loki-like retort.

"I assume you know why we arrested you." The agent said, never breaking eye contact.

"Yes, because I asked you to." Sherlock replied cooly.

The agent, who Sherlock soon learned, name was Phil Coulson started into a long ramble about interfering in a national emergency which the detective tuned out.

After a few agonizing hours of being read his rights (turns out that because this was SHIELD and technically didn't exist he didn't have many, or any really) and being stared at (Sherlock assumed agent Coulson was trying to deduce him. Personally Sherlock thought he was doing a poor job of it, as opposed to what he deduced about the agent

Agent Coulson is unmarried going by the lack of a mark on his ring finger, he has a significant other though judging by the way he keeps glancing at his phone, going by the blisters on his fingers he recently started playing a string instrument most likely the Cello, probably to impress said other he's not very good but it seems his lover is very patient with him, he's had lots of lessons.) - they finally landed on the helipad on the airship.

Sherlock was marched into the base by a bunch of armed guards, all who saw him tried their best not to compare him to Loki in their mind, he even had the arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Finally he was marched up to a small, dark cell and forcefully thrown in.

"You will stay here until Director Fury sends for you" One of the guards said in a monotone voice before turning on his heel and leaving.

Sherlock waited until the guards were out of sight before closing his eyes and concentrating solely on the shred of undeveloped 'magic' he had. The bars on his cell shimmered and for a split second they were as easy to move through as water. But then he lost his concentration. If only he could deduct the bars away! Actually….Sherlock closed his eyes once more and started listing everything the metal was made out of, who had touched it, how long they had stayed and if they were still alive. Soon the bars began to flicker again and stayed flickering long enough for the sociopath to walk through. Slowly without opening his eyes he pushed his hand through the bars and slipped out.

But the great detective failed to notice the small camera mounted to the roof.

“Sir we’ve got movement in cell block three.” Agent Hill said looking intently at the monitor.

Nick Fury rushed over just in time to see Sherlock slip through the bars and start off down the long hallway half concealed by the shadows.

“How in the hell…?” He muttered but then to Hill he said. “Loki’s security camera is still working I presume.”

“Yes sir?” The agent said looking puzzled, she couldn’t imagine why they’d let this man have contact with Loki, after all wouldn’t that be giving him what he wanted?

“Good. Then let this Mr. Holmes meet with Loki, maybe their conversation will be helpful.” Fury turned to leave but then turned back and added. “But keep tabs on him, we don’t need any unexpected detours”

Finally Sherlock found his way to a circular glass cage suspended over a steel trap with no furniture and only one inhabitant who was currently amusing himself by sending out a strand of golden shimmer, turning it into a snake and letting it slither back to him before making it disappear.

“Hello father.” Sherlock said simply looking at Loki through the glass.

The Asgardian's head snapped up and for a minute he looked at the detective uncomprehendingly before grinning. “Hello Sherlock.”

 

The detective shifted nervously the last time his father had visited he had seemed off, Sherlock had deduced that this was because of the fact that his brother had been banished to 'Midgard' and that Loki had recently discovered his true parentage, which (Sherlock had found out about the night he had met the man.) The detective had comforted his father the best could (by ordering Mrs. Hudson to make Loki a hot beverage and pulling him into an awkward hug before deciding never to hug another human being again unless it was a matter of life and death.) But even after all that Loki still had seemed troubled..it had been easier to ignite his temper, his laugh had seemed more crazed, even his eyes, usually twinkling with mischief were burning with hate. And now he seemed even worse.

"You meant it." Sherlock stated. "When you said you were going to take over the world." He looked vaguely disinterested as he said this.

Loki bobbed his head once and stood. "Do come in." He waved his hand and the glass disappeared. Sherlock smirked and obliged.

The people all gathered around the monitor gasped in horror.

"Son of a gun." Rogers said shaking his head.

"Bitch." Stark corrected "Son of a bitch. You mean he could just strut out of there any time he pleased?!"

Fury cursed and started speaking rapidly into his earpiece. Meanwhile the others turned back to the monitor.

"So that guy is Loki's son?" Banner asked turning to Thor.

The God of Thunder shook his head. "I was not aware my brother had any children. " He looked at the grainy image of the man that was supposedly his nephew, he did resemble Loki, so it was quite possible….he had just never thought himself an uncle.

No one said anything else just watched the screen intently.

\-----  
After a few minutes of silence Loki murmured quietly; “You could help.”

“Hmm?”

Loki straightened. “Think of what we could do Sherlock! We could free this world, I will be a king, you a prince! The mortals will worship us, we will bring them peace.” He took a breath to continue but Sherlock cut him off.

“No. Boring.”

The maniacal smile the ‘god’ had plastered on faltered a bit. “What!?” He snapped, not understanding how anyone could refuse his offer.

“As I said father, boring. I have something far more interesting that I could use your help with.”

Loki tilted his head considering, it had been a tiring process so far, also pretty stressful and as loath as the god of mischief was to admit it terrifying. He shuddered to think about what the Chitauri would do to him if he failed. So maybe a case with his son would do him some good. Getting revenge on his brother could wait.

"Do tell." Loki finally said a sly grin gracing his features.

Sherlock returned the smile, proud that he had piqued his father's attention. (Because even though he knew that Loki was well on his way to becoming a psychopathic murderer he still wanted to impress him. Sentiment. )

"How do I put this..I'm going to die." Now Sherlock probably shouldn't have paused there because Loki almost pounced on him, checking him over for any sign of illness and promising to go back to Asgard to get him medicine.

"No, no! Not of anything as boring as illness! I'm going to be murdered! Well, suicide, forced suicide,. IOU a fall Sherlock, that's what he said and now he dirtying my name, i'm assuming he's setting up the perfect murder" The detective had rambled a bit trying to calm down the panicked god.

Loki took a deep breath. "What do you want me to do about it." He cocked a raven eyebrow asking a silent question 'What's in it for me?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, now that he was in no unpreventable danger his father was back to his usual sly, manipulating self. Thankfully he had foresaw this answer and planned ahead.

"Someone's competing for your throne father." He answered smoothly making sure to stroke Loki's ego a bit by implying he supported the god's decision to take over humanity even if he wanted no part in it. And to top it off he had proof. Slowly he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, brought up the voice recorder and pressed play.

'In a world of locked doors the man with the key is king. And honey, you should see me in a crown."

Loki frowned at the black box in his son’s hand. ‘ _This man is too much like me.’_ He thought. The god knew he was arrogant and also knew too much of his controlling arrogant ways wouldn’t be good for the world. _‘After all,_ ’ he reasoned. ‘ _There cannot be two kings of Midgard.’_ And of course Loki was sure he was the rightful one.

“Alright.” The raven haired Asgardian grinned. “How do we rid you of him?”

Sherlock returned the smile and started going into detail about Moriarty, who he was, how Sherlock found himself on his bad side, and what the worlds only consulting criminal was doing to tarnish his reputation at the moment. Loki listened intently through the whole speech, sitting on the floor of his cage and mirroring his son’s usual position of the almost prayer like hand motion.

All the while in the control room of the ship the ‘Avengers’ were all listening just as intently on the conversation.

“So let me get this straight.” Stark said holding up a hand. “This guy needs Loki, his father, to help him fake his death so that this mad-man doesn’t take control of the world, without anyone knowing of course, -using his secret network? Does he realize how insane that sounds!!” Tony looked at the monitor with skepticism.

Thor nodded slowly. “It is a clever plan. If Loki used his illusions he could make a copy of his….son and the real, what was the mans name again, Sher-lock? Anyways this Sher-lock could survive anything Moriarty(?) put him through and to the rest of the world he’d appear to be dead.”

“And then he could take down Moriarty’s criminal network secretly, without anyone he cares about getting caught in the crossfire.” Natasha summarized. She shrugged and then added. “He’d make a good SHIELD agent.”

“It doesn’t sound like he particularly wants to help Loki.” Banner mused rubbing his chin. “In fact if anything it sounds as if he wants to distract him.”

Thor almost smiled at this idea. If he couldn’t get through to his brother, maybe his...nephew, he had a nephew, that was odd to think about. Anyway maybe his nephew could help Loki.

Only Director Fury was not convinced about the man’s motives, not willing to let him go unless they had absolute proof he was not a threat he ordered 24/7 security on Loki’s now shared cage (they couldn’t make Sherlock to go back to his own cell without risking setting Loki loose.)

But the next morning they found the Asgardians cage empty, and a small cargo ship missing. It hadn’t been reported either. Everyone was puzzled over how this was possible and failed to notice the smiling man in the back, who was still playing Galaga.

** A few days later…. **

Loki and Sherlock stood concealed by the shadows of an alleyway, watching the copy Loki had made of his son press the end call button on his phone and toss it to the side. Loki’s brow furrowed in concentration when he had to make the illusion solid enough to hold something. Sherlock now turned his attention towards John, watching his best friend panic and feeling a tug on his heart - guilt? He had to turn his back as his projection hit the pavement, instead concentrating on his father who looked to be focusing so hard on not making the projection disappear it hurt. Sherlock placed a hand on his father’s shoulder giving him silent encouragement. Finally as the ambulance carrying his ‘dead body’ drove away (driven by members of his homeless network of course) - drove away Loki could drop the illusion and sank to his knees panting.

“I thought I was supposed to kneel before you, not the other way around.” Sherlock commented dryly, flashing his father a sad smile before offering a hand.

“Sh-ut...up.” The god of mischief panted, glaring as he took the hand offered to him. As soon as he saw the look on his son’s face though, his expression turned to one of concern.

“I am sorry. I know how much you cared for that mortal, John? Is that his name?”

Sherlock nodded wordlessly, feeling his throat tighten up, oh how he wished he could run to John and assure him he was still alive, but that would only put his favorite person on the earth in danger. Loki considered for a moment and then pulled his son into a comforting, though awkward hug which Sherlock leaned into, burying his face in his father’s leather armor. Once Loki was sure Sherlock had calmed down enough he pulled away.

“Well what should we do next?” He asked, mischief in his emerald eyes.

“Well…” Sherlock considered for a moment, running a hand through his ebony curls. “We’ve seen my death, how about we crash my funeral?”

Soon they found themselves hidden in the tree line at a graveyard watching a short blonde man beg a shining black tombstone to come back and stop being dead. Sherlock had to squeeze his eyes closed to stop the tears that threatened to spill over. He was sociopath! He wasn’t meant to show emotion!

Sometime later after John had left and Sherlock had composed himself he turned to Loki.

“Well father, would you like to take over the world now? Or would you rather destroy a secret criminal network with me?” Sherlock gave a small half smile already knowing the answer Loki would give.

“Oh, the Chitauri can wait. This sounds much more fun.” Loki grinned mischievously at his son.

The detective nodded curtly, smiling to himself. SHIELD should give him a medal. He just prevented an alien invasion.


	2. The Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very exciting announcement that has been a long time in coming

Hey guys! So I wrote this story last year and if you notice I've now marked it as part of a series. Yes you know what this means, I finally got inspiration and am writing a sequel. Now I estimate I'm about a third of the way through it now, possibly not even that so if writers block doesn't strike this sequel to be finished in about a month's time. It will be another rather long one-shot unless I see the need to split it up and I figured this would be as good a time as any to give you a sneak peek:

 

“Why, pray tell, is my half-brother an eight-legged _horse_!” Sherlock panted, sparing glances behind him at the dark hulking figure that was growing ever closer.

Loki smirked, his emerald eyes twinkling with mischief, deciding that this was not the time for clever riddles or his silver tongue, he decided to be blunt. “Because I had sex with a stallion son.” He yelled over the roaring wind.

Sherlock had just enough energy NOT focused on running away from his rampaging equine brother to glare at his father. The famous piercing blue stare that had silenced many of his mortal clients and could even cow his more humanoid brother into submission did not seem to have the desired effect on his father. “Yes father, I know that much, I have studied Norse Mythology after all...I want to know why.”

The raven haired Asgardian laughed, his laugh sounding carefree and even joyous. Completely inappropriate for the situation at hand. “To spite my father.” He answered simply as if this explained everything.

“And it’s chasing us why?!” Sherlock screamed, not willing to turn around and deduce this for himself, although he was confident he could.

“ _Sleipnir_ ,” Loki corrected, chastising Sherlock for calling his half brother an ‘it’. “is currently under the service of Odin, and I’m sure the great Allfather wants very much to punish me for my disobedience.”

 

Hope this piques your interest/holds you over until I can get the next part up. Thank you all for motivating me to write a sequel, I'm having a lot of fun with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it! I will definitely be posting more works on this site, but I wanted one that I was already confident about for starters (did that make any sense?) Please review!
> 
> -IntotheUnkown


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